


Somewhere Now

by LuthienLuinwe



Series: Safe and Sound [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Car Accidents, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Victim Blaming, past abusive relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-04-29 08:04:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14468433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/pseuds/LuthienLuinwe
Summary: Sequel to Safe & SoundIf there was one thing Jason Todd was absolutely sure of, it was that Dick Grayson was the best thing that had ever happened to him. But between Roy and Catalina's release, news of a potential disease, and having developed a nasty habit, he isn't sure their relationship can survive.





	1. Cough Syrup

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! After some thought and consideration, I did end up deciding to write a sequel to Safe & Sound. There is a lot of legal speak in this chapter. I am not a lawyer, and I do not reside in the State of New Jersey. Please do not take anything written as being legal advice.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**_“And so I run now to the things they say could restore me, restore life the way it should be. I’m waiting for this cough syrup to come down.”_**

Waking up was the worst. His head was fuzzy and his mind was numb, but not in a good way, more numb than it had been his entire life. His eyes were only open a moment before he shut them again. The lights were too bright. The noises were too loud. God, he would have killed to get that damn beeping to stop.

A hand grasped his, and for a moment he couldn’t think straight. What the hell had happened? Where was he? But he wasn't scared. If anything, he was relieved. God, he didn’t want that feeling, though.

He didn’t want to feel anything at all.

“You scared the shit out of me,” a voice that was far too loud said. He heard quick footsteps, but didn’t want to open his eyes again to investigate.

Whoever designed hospital rooms needed new inspiration. All white was far too rough when waking up from who-knew-how-long of a nap.

Slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes, meeting Jason’s concerned gaze. “What happened?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. He doubted Jason could even understand what he was saying. He could barely understand it himself.

“Car swerved and hit you dead on,” Jason answered. “Fucked your arm up pretty good, but other than that you’re fine, thank God.”

Roy nodded and slowly sat up, cognizant of his right arm in a sling across his chest. “Can we fix it?”

Jason nodded. “They think so.”

“Kay,” Roy nodded and shut his eyes. Whatever drugs they had given him were strong, that was for damn sure. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the numb, floaty feeling they caused.

He was asleep before he could really process anything that had happened.

* * *

It had started out innocently enough. He took more pills than he needed to. They upset his stomach, but they shut his mind down, at least for a little while. 

And then he ran out. 

And it had taken some convincing, but his doctor had hesitantly prescribed a refill.

And then he ran out.

And then he started borrowing pills from friends, not even caring if they were different, because anything was better than being left alone with his head. Because he was a failure and a loser and he was never going to be good enough at anything or good enough for anyone. Hell, Ollie made that perfectly clear every damn moment of every damn day.

And then the pills and the booze stopped being enough.

And then it was arrest after arrest after arrest.

And, of course, it was always someone else’s fault.

* * *

_In the Hudson County Circuit Court:_

**_State of New Jersey vs. Roy W. Harper, Jr._ **

_That on or about March 3, 2016, Hudson County, State of New Jersey:_

**_Count 1: Unlawful Possession of a Syringe (a Level 6 Felony)_ **

_In Hudson County, State of New Jersey, Roy Harper did possess a hypodermic syringe or needle or an instrument adapted for the use of a legend drug or a controlled substance to-wit: heroin by injection in a human body_

**_Count 2: Possession of a Narcotic Drug (a Level 6 Felony)_ **

_In Hudson County, State of New Jersey, Roy Harper did knowingly or intentionally possess heroin, pure or adulterated, a narcotic drug classified in Schedule I_

**_Count 3: Domestic Battery (A Class A Misdemeanor)_ **

_In Hudson County, State of New Jersey, Roy Harper did knowingly or intentionally touch Jason Todd, who was living as if a spouse of Roy Harper, in a rude, insolent, or angry manner, to-wit: he shoved him to the floor_

**_Count 4: Invasion of Privacy (A Class A Misdemeanor)_ **

_In Hudson County, State of New Jersey, Roy Harper did knowingly violate a protective order to prevent domestic or family violence by the Hudson County Circuit Court 1 issued to protect Jason P. Todd_

“You fucked up, Roy,” his lawyer had told him once Roy had finished reading over the charging information.

“So am I just getting my probation extended or what?” he had asked, even though he already knew the answer was going to be one he didn’t want to hear.

“You’re going to jail, Roy. For awhile.”

“What are they offering?” Roy asked. Deep down he knew he wasn’t going to like the answer, not at all.

“Syringe, Domestic, Invasion,” his lawyer sighed and slid the proposed plea change form over to Roy. “They’re willing to dismiss the drug charge. 180 days, all executed. Gotham Metro instead of Blackgate. Probation revocation time served concurrent.” Roy nodded and slid the form over to Ollie. His relationship with his adoptive father had always been strained at best, but Roy still valued his opinion. “I think it’s the best you’re going to get here, kid,” the lawyer sighed.

Roy studied Ollie’s face as he looked the papers over. Sorry I’m such a fuck-up, he wanted to say. But how many times had he apologized in the past? To him? To Jason? To everyone? _You’re just a junkie._ He watched as Ollie sighed deeply and slid the form back to Roy, nodding slightly. He couldn't even look him in the eye.

He took the pen from the lawyer and signed his name on the line.

* * *

He had worn his best clothes to the sentencing hearing. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” He had muttered a yes. God, he always hated this part. He never understood why it was necessary. They had the damn form on record. “I am going to question you about the facts of the crime alleged and your decision to plead guilty; you have been placed under oath, and it is important for you to tell me the truth. If you say something here under oath that you know is not true, you could be charged with committing perjury. If you intentionally lie under oath, the things that you say could be used against you in a criminal prosecution; also, I would not give you credit for pleading guilty and your sentence in this case would be higher. Do you understand all that?.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“State your name.”

“Roy William Harper, Jr.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“How far did you go in school?”

“Bachelor of Science in Information Technology.”

“Do you read and write? Have you understood me so far?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“If there is something I say that you do not understand, or if you have a problem understanding a question I ask, please tell me and ask me to explain or repeat it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Are you feeling the effects right now of any alcohol, drugs, or medications you may have consumed?”

“No, Your Honor.” God, he would have killed for a fix, though. Anything to make the rest of the hearing go by any quicker.

“Are you being treated by any medical or mental health provider?”

“No, Your Honor.” Maybe he should have been.

It was old hat to him. He’d been in and out of trouble since he turned fifteen. Then it had been for stupid shit, marijuana, running away… But he’d been a juvenile. None of that was going to be able to come back and haunt him.

And then he’d gotten an OWI. And then he’d threatened Ollie when Ollie had just been trying to help him, or at least doing the best Ollie could do to try and help him… And then he got hooked on the drugs after that damn car wreck.

And then he’d started abusing Jason. Because as much as he wanted to deny it, to lie to himself and tell himself that he wasn’t abusive, he knew it was true. And God he hated himself for it.

“To the charge contained in Count One: Unlawful Possession of a Syringe, how do plead?”

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

“Your Honor, the State moves to dismiss Count Two: Possession of a Narcotic Drug.”

“Your motion is granted. Count two is dismissed. To the charge contained in Count Three: Domestic Battery, how do you plead?”

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

“To the charge contained in Count Four: Invasion of Privacy, how do you plead?”

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

“I accept the defendant’s plea of guilty to counts one, three, and four of the information and find him guilty of the offenses expressed in counts one, three, and four. The Defendant shall be sentenced to 180 days in Gotham Metro Jail, with all time to be served and credit for four days of good time served. The Defendant shall now be remanded into custody.”

It was all routine by then. Hands on the table in front of him until the officer cuffed them behind his back. The escort from the courthouse to the jail.

God, when had he let himself get so fucked up?

* * *

He could go through the booking process in his sleep. Name. Date of Birth. Emergency Contact Information. Fingerprints. Mugshot. Full body search. Changing into those awful orange jumpsuits that clashed with his hair. Warrant check. Quick health check. Then off to classification.

He was already sweating and starting to shake. He hadn’t shot up since the night before, not that he’d ever admit that to Ollie. As far as Ollie was concerned, he’d been clean since he’d bailed him out, again.

Jade had been pissed. Why wouldn’t she be? He was going to be a father in eight months. And he was going to be locked up for six of them.

“Harper,” a corrections officer had said several hours later, along with a few other names Roy didn’t pay attention to. It wasn’t like it was going to matter. He grabbed his things and followed the officer to the pod he’d be spending the next six months of his life in. “605.” he nodded and headed to his assigned cell. And groaned when he saw who his cellmate was.

“Again?” Waylon questioned, eyebrow raised. Roy just nodded and threw his bedding onto the top bunk. “Better not be for drugs. You told me you were getting clean.”

“Yeah, well I lied,” he snapped and lay down, not wanting to look at the man he’d once viewed as a mentor, as a hero, at the man who had offered to be his sponsor if he ever seriously wanted to get help. He’d promised not to get arrested again when they had parted the last time. Just one more thing he was bad at.

“So what was it this time?” Roy couldn’t see him, but he knew Waylon had his arms crossed. He’d seen the pose too many times before, too many broken promises before. “Drugs or another domestic battery charge?”

“Both,” he admitted. He hoped things would cool off in a few days. At least he knew someone in the pod, even if he didn’t know what had gotten his once-mentor locked up again.

“I told you that shit’ll kill you,” Waylon sighed, and Roy hated the disappointment he heard in the older man’s voice.

“Yeah, well maybe I want it to.”

* * *

They all thought he was detoxing, that he’d somehow managed to get ahold of his drugs during the four months he’d been locked up. Granted, it wouldn’t have been too hard to do. Hell, he thought he was detoxing at first, even though he knew he hadn't taken anything. But the nausea wouldn’t stop and he had never felt that sick in his life and he felt like someone had stabbed him in the side and he needed to go to medical, and even Waylon, who still wasn’t too happy with him for getting arrested again, had been concerned.

It took three days for the officers to take them seriously and take him to medical, and a ton of convincing to get them to do a blood draw. And three more days of being violently ill to get a Hepatitis C diagnosis. “You’re going to need to let any recent partners know,” the medical staff had told him.

“Great. There’s a no contact order with one of them,” he’d muttered. Which meant he was going to have to call Ollie and tell him so he could tell Jason on Roy’s behalf. He thought about not saying anything, about keeping his mouth shut. It would serve him right for getting Roy into this mess in the first place…

No. Roy was done thinking like that. Jason hadn’t done anything wrong. Roy had been the one to hurt him. And hurt him. And hurt him again and again and again. Roy had been the one to turn their friends against him. Roy had been the one to cheat on him.

He was going to have to tell Jade. God, he could have given it to her. And to their unborn baby. He’d found out it was a girl the last time they’d talked on the phone. He was pretty sure he had heard someone else in the background. Could he blame her for finding someone else?

It took less than a minute to dial the number and for Ollie to pick up. “Didn’t think you’d call this early,” his former guardian commented.

“I fucked up,” he sighed and shut his eyes.

What else was new?


	2. Pretty Girl (The Way)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a self-harm passage in this chapter. Updates may be slower than usual after today, as I start school again on Monday.

**_“It’s the way that he makes you cry. It’s the way that he’s in your mind. It’s the way that he makes you fall in love. It’s the way that he makes you feel. It’s the way that he kisses you. It’s the way that he makes you fall in love.”_ **

He lay with his head on Dick’s chest, tracing random patterns onto his skin, Dick’s arm wrapped around him securely, protectively. Just a few months prior, their positions had been reversed, with Jason comforting Dick after Catalina had been released. Things had always been one-sided with Roy…

Their clothes were in crumpled heaps on the floor, long forgotten. Jason was breathing heavily, but not uncomfortable. He’d only felt that good a handful of times before. “You okay?” Dick asked and shifted slightly, slowly, so that Jason wouldn’t accidentally get knocked to the side.

Jason nodded and shut his eyes, breathing Dick in. The past few days had been absolute hell. Oliver’s number kept popping up on Jason’s phone, but he’d never checked the messages. How had he gotten the new number anyway? But then he started calling, and Jason couldn’t ignore him anymore.

“What do you want?” he had asked.

“Roy tested positive for Hep C. You need to get tested.”

He had ended the call there, not wanting to hear about how all of it could have been avoided. Oliver would always take Roy’s side, no matter what Roy did. Jason wasn’t going to put up with it anymore. But Hep C wasn’t good. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t good.

Dick had gone with him to get the blood draw, and the two had spent three days waiting and waiting and waiting.

Thank God it had come back negative.

“Family wants to meet you,” Dick commented after a long moment. Jason nodded and shifted onto his side to look his boyfriend, God the term still felt so weird, in the eye. “I mean, I know you kind of already met Damian, but…”

“When?” Jason asked. 

“This weekend,” Dick answered and played with his hair. Jason leaned into his touch. 

“Okay,” Jason nodded. “Sounds good. Can’t wait.”

“Really?” Dick asked, his eyes lighting up in the way that always made Jason smile. He would’ve done anything to keep that light in his eyes.

“Really,” Jason nodded and curled back up to him, shutting his eyes again. 

Dick’s hand rubbed his arm, carefully avoiding the lines he pretended not to see. Just like Jason had pretended not to see on Roy, even if the marks were different… “Love you,” he said softly.”

“Yeah, well I’m pretty great,” Jason smirked and laughed when Dick cracked up. “Love you too,” he said softly before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Tuesday nights were therapy night, and Jason dreaded going almost as much as he had initially dreaded going to the support group meetings. But Dick had talked him into it, said it couldn’t hurt to try. But lately it seemed like he was getting worse, not better.

Track the pen with his eyes. Think of a scene that made him feel a certain way. Breathe. How was he feeling? Tell her what’s going on. Track the pen. What’s going on?

He was fifteen, back in the foster care system. The home before this one had kicked him out, said he was too hostile toward the other kids. He wasn’t. He just knew how the game was played. If he wanted something, he had to take it and hold onto it for dear life. Foster parents didn’t give a shit.

Deep breath. How was he feeling? Tell her what’s going on. Track the pen.

He was the only kid in this house. Single foster mom. Recently moved to the United States from the Middle East. Her name was Talia. She was nice to Jason. She took care of him.

Deep breath. How was he feeling? Tell her what’s going on. Track the pen.

She came onto him one night. He didn’t want to do anything. It was wrong. She should have known better. What had he done to make her think he wanted this?

Deep breath. How was he feeling? Tell her what’s going on. Track the pen.

She had gotten upset at his refusal, but she hadn’t pressed it. Instead, she’d just sent him off to another home with more new rules and more adjustments and more people who didn’t like him and wouldn’t even try to.

Deep breath.

How was he feeling?

Tell her what’s going on.

Track the pen.

* * *

The first fight had come quicker than Jason had expected it to, though, in hindsight, he should have seen it coming. Catalina had just been released. The No Contact Order protecting Dick from her had been dropped. Both he and Dick had been under a lot of stress. Both were getting sick of each other.

“What are you implying, Jason?” Dick had questioned, leaning against the corner cabinet.

“I’m not implying anything,” Jason had snapped, harsher than he had intended to. “All I’m saying is that you spend a lot of time with Barbara.”

“We work together,” Dick had thrown his hands up. “What the hell do you want me to do? We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

“Do you still love her?” Jason asked, his voice breaking. Because he didn’t think he could handle that. He’d finally found someone who cared, really cared, and the thought that Dick would leave him, just like everyone else had, had been eating him alive for weeks.

“Not like I love you,” Dick tried to take his hands, but Jason pulled away. “She was my first love, okay? We were young and stupid and we got engaged young and it didn’t work out. We weren’t right for each other then, and we’re not right for each other now.”

Jason nodded and hugged himself, not saying anything in response. “I’m not Roy, okay?” Dick had sighed, a tone of resignation in his voice that Jason had only heard a handful of times before. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

And Jason nodded and kissed him because he knew that Dick would never hurt him like that, would never hurt him at all. But eve months after the break-up with Roy, the mental effects still lingered. He wasn’t good enough. He was never going to be good enough. No one was ever going to love him…

But Roy was a liar. Dick loved him. Dick loved him more than Jason had ever been loved in his life.

But it was only a matter of time before Dick got sick of his shit and kicked him to the curb.

Just like everyone else did.

* * *

Waiting for the blood test and the results had been the worst part. But Jason was lucky. Dick had gone with him. He kind of had to. He had to get tested too. God, Jason would never forgive himself if he got Dick sick…

He had been curled up on the couch after the phone call will Ollie, hugging a pillow to his chest, trying to keep himself calm. “Hey love,” Dick had said as he walked through the door. Jason heard the clink of his keys falling into the dish by the door, just like they always did right at 6:00 most weekdays and 5:30 every-other Saturday. “What’s wrong?” he didn’t need to see Dick frown to hear it in his voice. He curled up into a tighter ball when he felt Dick sit beside him and rub his back.

It had freaked Jason out at first, how touchy-feely Dick was. But he had come to need it, to crave it. Dick always knew what to do. He knew how to comfort, when to back off… Why couldn’t Jason be good at everything like that? “Not your love language,” Dick had shrugged when Jason had admitted how insecure he was about not being as reciprocal or initiative with anything like that. He hadn’t even known that was a thing.

“Talk to me, love,” Dick was rubbing his back. “You’re scaring me.” When they had first become an official couple, Dick had asked if ‘Jaybird’ was okay. Jason had shook his head with a resounding no. That was Roy’s name for him. He wasn’t going to be associated with Roy anymore.

He had expected Dick to be upset, to get mad that he had told him no. But Dick had shrugged and promised to come up with something else, or even nothing else if Jason would prefer that. God, he didn’t deserve Dick Grayson. “Roy’s got Hep C. We need to get tested.” He shut his eyes tightly. Dick was going to hate him. He was so sure he was going to hate him.

“Okay,” Dick nodded, running his fingers through Jason’s hair. “Okay. We’ll go do that, then.”

And that had been that. No accusations. No shouting. No hitting. No screaming. Just acceptance and a plan.

God, Jason loved him.

* * *

He had a favorite tool: a knife he’d stolen from one of his foster homes from a Pampered Chef party his foster mother had hosted. It was green handled, enamel coated, and one of the sharpest things Jason had seen in his life.

He didn’t even know why he'd taken it.

But it had always gone with him, to every home, even off to the Gotham University student housing. Even to Roy’s apartment when he’d moved in. Even to Dick’s.

Sometimes he just stared at it. Pulled it out of the drawer, studied the cold metal blade.

Sometimes, like on that night, he used it. Always on his left arm or on his hip. Never anywhere else. Always three times. Always horizontal.

_“God, Jason, just because your fucking mom died of an overdose doesn’t mean you have to be such a damn buzzkill on everyone else.”_ One for Roy.

_“Mom? Mom wake up. Please wake up.”_ One for Catherine. _“Then I guess you can find yourself a new place to stay.”_ One for Talia.

* * *

The dinner with the Wayne family was only a night away, and Jason was more nervous than he had ever been in his entire life. “Don’t worry,” Dick squeezed his shoulder before sitting across from him. “They’re going to love you.”

“I’m pretty sure Damian already hates me,” Jason responded and drank his orange juice. God, Dick was always beaming about how great a kid Damian was. How he was really just the sweetest person. How he could do no wrong… And it had been the same kid that had shown up at the apartment and threatened Jason before he and Dick had ever even been officially dating.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Dick rolled his eyes and poured himself another cup of coffee. “He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t like anyone he doesn’t know. Don’t be too hard on him. His mom’s kind of psycho. We’re still helping him through some stuff.”

That, Jason could relate to. His mom hadn’t been ‘psycho,’ per-se, but she’d definitely been neglectful. And his dad was usually beating the shit out of one of them at any given point in time. He could understand troubled pasts, could relate to them.

“And Tim’s pretty chill. Super smart too. You’ll like him.”

Jason nodded and pushed the food around on his plate. He needed to put his best foot forward. He knew how much Dick’s family meant to him. He needed to put in his best effort, needed to try and like them, to try and get them to like him too.

“And don’t let Bruce scare you, okay?” Dick reached across the table and laced his fingers through Jason’s. “He’s really a nice guy. He just doesn’t really trust too many people around me after what happened.”

Jason nodded and squeezed his hand. As long as Jason had him, everything would be okay.

* * *

He had never seen Dick in as bad shape as he was the day Catalina had been released. Jason had come home from work. He’d gotten out of his shitty retail job and taken an entry level position as a copy-editor at a local publishing house. He hung his jacket up on the coat rack by the door, and frowned when he saw Dick on the couch. “You get off work early?”

Dick had nodded, but didn’t turn to face him. Jason had frowned and sat across from him. He was pale, deathly pale. His eyes were puffy. If Jason didn’t know any better, he would have said the man was terrified of something. Or someone. What day was it? He felt like something important was supposed to have happened that day…

“What’s wrong?” he asked, genuinely, genuinely worried for his boyfriend. But instead of answering, Dick had leaned in and kissed him, not soft and gentle like usual. Rough, needy, desperate. He had slid his hands under Jason’s t-shirt, and Jason grabbed his wrists and pulled away when he felt Dick’s tears, warm and wet, on his own face.

“Dick, what the hell is going on?” he asked, and pulled back when Dick tried to kiss him again.

“Please,” the man had whimpered, and Jason pulled him into a tight hug, Dick’s forehead resting on his shoulder. “She was right,” he cried, his voice more broken, more fragile than Jason had ever heard it in his life. “She was right. No one’s ever going to want me again.”

Shit.

Catalina.

God, how could he have forgotten? Dick didn’t come home early from work that day. He hadn’t gone in. Gordon had told him to take the day off because Catalina was being released…

“She’s a liar,” he said softly and held Dick tighter. “She’s a liar, okay? I want you. But only when you want it too, okay?” Dick had shaken his head. He was starting to hyperventilate. Jason didn’t know what else to do, and so he just kept holding him. “You’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

It had been that moment that Jason had realized how much he loved Dick Grayson, how truly, madly, deeply in love with him he was. Not just happy Dick, the one that the rest of the world got to see. All of him. All of his ups and downs. All of his quirks. 

He would kill to keep anyone from ever hurting him again.


	3. Bad at Love

**_“Look, I don’t mean to frustrate, but I always make the same mistakes ‘cause I’m bad at love.”_ **

“Stop stressing,” Dick wrapped his arms around Jason’s waist from behind, rested his chin on his shoulder. “They’re going to love you.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Jason muttered and straightened the tie Dick had insisted was entirely unnecessary. Still, he was flattered that Jason was making an effort. He’d been ecstatic when his boyfriend had agreed to meet the family. He just hoped his family didn't scare him away. “Everyone loves you.”

“Hey, you can’t be any worse than the last person I brought home,” Dick kissed his cheek, and sighed when Jason’s nervous expression turned angry. “Too soon?” Jason nodded and Dick kissed his cheek again. “Just trust me, okay? They’ll love you.”

“Okay,” Jason took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s just get this over with.”

* * *

He was twenty and Barbara had just ended their relationship. They were going in two different directions. She needed to look forward and she felt like he was holding her back. And he hadn’t wanted to admit it, not at the time, not even months later, but she was right.

They were both good people.

They just weren’t good for each other.

He could accept that. It wasn’t either of their faults. They needed more life experience, needed to meet new people, make new friends. They couldn’t do that if it was always Dick and Barbara, not just one or the other.

It hadn’t even been a few weeks later he was at a local coffee shop with Wally during a lull in patrol. “She’s totally checking you out,” Wally had nudged him and nodded toward a tall, dark-haired girl.

“She so isn’t,” Dick had responded and paid for his coffee. And even if she was, it wasn’t like he would be interested. Everything with Barbara was still too fresh. He needed to focus on himself for a bit, figure out what it was he wanted. And he needed to figure it out independent of any potential relationships.

They had been leaving when she had accidentally-on-purpose bumped into him. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. Dick had stumbled, and she had moved to keep him from falling. “I’m the clumsiest person I know.”

“It’s okay,” Dick assured and made sure she was okay. He’d spilled coffee all over his uniform, but he didn’t care. It would wash out. “Are you okay?”

“Great now that I’ve met you,” she had smirked. God she was so different from Barbara. Confident, girl-next-door Barbara. “Catalina.”

“Dick.” 

A rebound wouldn’t hurt, right?

* * *

“Ah, Master Dick,” Alfred smiled and pulled Dick into a tight hug when they arrived at the manor. Dick smiled and returned the hug before stepping back, taking Jason’s hand in his once more. “And this must be Jason.” He watched as Alfred extended a hand, as Jason hesitated momentarily before shaking it.

Had Dick mentioned the family had a butler that was like a grandfather to him? He couldn’t remember, but based on the freaked-out expression he saw on Jason’s face, he had to judge it as a ‘no.’ “Do come inside.”

Dick trailed behind Alfred, keeping Jason close-by. He smiled when he saw his eyes light up, as he took in the manor. Could he blame him for being in awe? Dick had been nothing short of amazed when Bruce had brought him home. _You really live here? I really live here?_

“Dick,” Bruce rose to greet them. Dick smiled and pulled him into a tight hug. It had always thrown his adoptive father off at first, always worried him. Because Dick had always been like that. Hell, one time he’d hugged a stranger when he was at the store with Alfred. He’d been met with a long stranger-danger talk after that one. But instead of tensing up like he had at first, Bruce returned the hug if only for a moment, and stepped back.

He saw Jason shift his weight from foot to foot as Bruce looked him over. Dick couldn’t blame him for being nervous, not in the slightest. He’d been terrified all those years ago when Mr. Haly had told him Mr. Wayne wanted a word with him. “And you must be Jason,” Bruce extended a hand. Jason reached out and shook it, and Dick was proud of him for making eye contact.

Bruce gestured toward the teenager sitting across from Dick’s usual seat. It was late evening, around seven, but he still had a coffee mug in front of him. Must’ve had a paper due in the near future. “This is Tim.” Tim glanced over and waved, a smile on his face.

Dick followed Bruce’s hand to where Damian sat, next to Dick’s usual seat, as per usual. He was glaring daggers at Jason, but Dick still thought it was adorable. His little brother was looking out for him, just like Dick always looked out for Damian. “And I’ve been told you’ve already met Damian.”

“I have,” Jason smiled and followed Dick to the table. Dick pulled Jason’s chair out for him before sitting on his other side, between him and Damian. “Nice to see you again,” Jason nodded. Dick heard Damian mutter something under his breath, but didn’t press it. “And nice to meet you,” he added, turning to face Tim.

Dick took Jason’s hand under the table and squeezed it reassuringly. He couldn’t have asked for a better first impression.

* * *

“Come on baby,” she said, draping her arms around his neck, kissing behind his ear. “Do you really need to go? Stay home with me.”

“I only see them once a week,” Dick reminded as he buttoned up his shirt. He’d already cut off contact with most of his friends. They weren’t spending enough time together, she had said. He should be focused on her, not some stupid group. He wasn’t going to let his family get thrown out too.

“So reschedule,” she moved in front of him, pushed him down so he was sitting on the bed. “Tell them you had to work late or something. They’ll understand. Don’t leave me here alone.”

He had started to suggest she go out with her friends when her lips were on his neck. “Stay,” she repeated, her hands unbuttoning the shirt he had just put on, wrinkling it where he had just ironed it.

“Not tonight,” he tried to pull away, but she pushed him back so he was lying down, her on top of him.

“It’s all right, baby,” she said softly, her lips against his collarbone. “They’ll understand.”

* * *

It was after dinner, and Bruce had insisted he and Jason stay for a bit, chat, catch up. Jason had said he would love to before Dick had even gotten the chance to ask if it was okay. They talked about everything, what Jason did for a living, his college experiences, his family…

And somehow they had gotten back to how Dick, Tim, and Damian had come to live at the manor..

“Dick was the first,” Bruce commented, and Dick smiled slightly. “I was at Haly’s Circus the night...” the hesitation. Always the same hesitation. He glanced at Dick, who nodded. He was always glad Bruce checked with him on the details before he continued. “The night his parents died. They were the best acrobats I’ve ever seen, even him and he was only nine. It was a damn tragedy. And, unfortunately, I knew exactly what he felt like, watching his parents die and not being able to stop it.” Jason wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Dick leaned into his side. “I knew I needed to adopt him, take care of him.”

“That’s really amazing,” Jason commented, and Dick smiled up at him.

“”It’s what anyone in my position would have done,” Bruce responded. Dick felt Jason tense, but only for a moment before he relaxed again. “Tim came around later. Dick was almost done with high school by then. I was good friends with his parents, and took him in when they passed.”

“I’m sure they really appreciate you taking such good care of him,” Jason replied.

Bruce nodded and smiled, a rare, genuine smile. “Damian was… different,” the hesitation again. And Dick was glad that Damian was out of the room. Sometimes it was better to hold parents in high esteem than have some of the uglier truths revealed. “His mother, Talia, we had a… complicated relationship.” Dick frowned when Jason tensed again, and looked up to study his face. His expression was rigid, teeth clenched. “She left him with me when she decided she didn’t want to deal with him anymore. We’ve had him since. He took a real liking to Dick. After a bit, he even wanted to legally drop the al Ghul part of his name.”

Dick didn’t miss the flash of hatred he saw in Jason’s eyes, nor did he miss the recovery. “Sorry to interrupt,” Dick frowned when Jason was already standing. When had he moved Dick out of the way? “I just… Can I use your bathroom?”

Bruce frowned and glanced at Dick, who shrugged in response. “Of course,” Bruce nodded, a concerned look replacing the smile that had once been on his face. “It’s through there.”

Dick watched as Jason left. He could see his breathing becoming more rapid. What had gone wrong? What triggered him. Bruce started to say something, but Dick was already standing. He shot his adoptive father a look, which was met with a nod, and he followed after his boyfriend.

Jason had stopped in the middle of a hallway, sat on the ground, back to the elegantly papered wall. “Hey,” Dick said softly and sat beside him. “What’s up?” And Jason had just shaken his head and hugged his knees to his chest. Dick rubbed circles on his back. “You’re doing great,” he promised. “They love you. We all love you.”

And Jason shook his head again. Dick tried to hug him, but Jason pushed him away… He’d never pushed him away when upset before. “Can we just go home?” his voice cracked.

“Yeah, sure,” Dick nodded. “You going to be okay?” 

He watched as Jason nodded, as he took a deep, shaky breath, listened as he kept apologizing. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s all okay.”

* * *

Tim had been the first one to figure it out. “What the hell is with you lately?” he’d demanded when Dick had flaked on yet another family event. He’d shown up at the manor a few days later to apologize, and had, admittedly, acted more than a bit hostile toward his little brother.

“Nothing, okay?” he had snapped back and tried to leave. Tim had grabbed him by the wrist, and he’d tensed up and tried to pull away.

“What the hell happened?” Tim demanded, and Dick frowned, trying to figure out what he meant. So much, Tim, So fucking much has happened. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dick had snapped and pulled his arm away. He’d be damned if he was going to let a high school kid think he knew better.

“The scratches on your hands,” Tim frowned, his tone suddenly more gentle, pitying even. God, Dick hated that tone. He frowned and glanced at the back of his hands, swearing under his breath when he realized what Tim was talking about. Normal people would have ignored it. But Tim wasn’t normal. He was of the most observant person Dick had ever met, maybe even more observant than Bruce. “Those are fucking defensive wounds, Dick. What the hell happened?”

“Work accident,” he shrugged, groaning when Tim crossed his arms. 

“She do that to you?” 

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Don’t tell Bruce.”

Tim had hesitated, and for a moment, Dick wasn’t sure which future scared him more. If Tim told, then Bruce would make sure Dick got the hell away from Catalina. But then he would be away from her. He needed her. She was the only person who was ever going to love him. He was nothing without her… “Okay,” his little brother had sighed in resignation. “But not if it happens again.”

“Deal,” Dick nodded. 

He’d never forget the disappointed look Tim shot him before turning and leaving.


	4. Roots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a self-harm passage in this chapter.

**“I bite down a little harder. My blade’s a little sharper. My roots my roots run deep into the hollow.”**

He stared at the little white pill in his hand, the one he was supposed to take every night at bedtime that was supposed to make him feel better, at least after a few weeks. Or at least that’s what his doctor had told him. He wasn’t sure if he believed her or not, but he took it anyway.

But all it had done so far was make him sick. He’d taken his first dose the night before. He had been to restless to sleep. He woke up with the stomach ache from hell. He’d gotten sick at work and got sent home early for it.

_“It’ll get worse before it gets better,”_ his doctor had told him. _“And we may have to try a few different ones before we find the right combination for you.”_

Dick was saying something, but Jason had spaced out less than a minute into the conversation. He hadn’t even wanted to go to the damn psychiatrist. He was already in therapy. Why did he need medication on top of it? But after his little episode at Wayne Manor, Dick had talked him into giving it a shot.

At least he hadn’t pressed the freak-out. Granted it had only been two days prior. “Earth to Jason?” Jason blinked when he saw Dick’s hand waving in front of his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and blinked a few times to refocus his vision. 

“I was a zombie the first few months on my meds,” Dick commented, and Jason wondered how he could be so casual about it. Granted, he had been taking his meds for over a year. Jason had only been on his for a day. “I’ll pick some protein drinks up after work,” he squeezed Jason’s hands. “They settle on the stomach better.”

Jason nodded and took his mostly untouched plate over to the sink. He had woken up starving, but as soon as he looked down at the food he felt sick again. “Try to eat something on your lunch break, okay?” Dick hugged him from behind, and Jason jumped.

To his credit, Dick immediately backed off.

“I’m okay,” Jason said after taking a shaky breath. “Just scared the shit out of me.”

“I get it,” Dick squeezed his shoulder and sat up on the counter. “Sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay,” Jason promised and finished doing the dishes. God knew Dick wouldn’t do them. It had taken Jason weeks to get used to clutter being everywhere. But they had compromised. Clutter was fine. Mess was not. 

His parents had lived in the most cluttered house Jason had ever seen. Roy had been a bit of a neat-freak, though that was probably out of a need to hide his drugs and paraphernalia and her things. He thought he could learn to love the happy medium.

“You’re running late,” Jason commented as he pulled his shoes on. Dick was usually gone before Jason even woke up. And he had a longer commute.

Dick shook his head and smoothed out a line on his uniform. God, Jason could look at Officer Grayson all day long. It wasn’t fair, how good he looked in everything. “Testifying today. Don’t go in until later.”

“Drug trial or trying to reinstate the NCO?” Jason crossed his arms. Dick kept fighting and fighting with the courts about that order being terminated as soon as Catalina was released. Even if it was just a piece of paper, Dick had felt so much safer with it.

“Worse,” Dick rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. “Traffic court.”

Jason laughed and kissed his cheek as he opened the door. “Try not to die of boredom.” He returned the smile Dick shot him before heading out the door of the apartment.

A few months ago, he never would have imagined a relationship could come so easily.

* * *

Dick was home early, not that that surprised Jason anymore. He’d learned to expect the unexpected with him after the first month they had spent living together. A few weeks ago, he would have been worried. But traffic court days always ended early. “Hey,” Jason tossed his keys down, kicked his shoes off, and sat down next to Dick.

“Hey,” Dick smiled and curled up to Jason. Jason returned the smile and wrapped an arm around him. “Good day?”

“It was fine,” Jason nodded and ran a hand through Dick’s hair. He glanced at the television and let a comfortable silence fall over the two of them. Silence had always been tense with Roy. One minute he could be fine, the next he could be going off about anything and everything.

But silence with Dick almost never meant anything good. “What’s wrong?”

Dick shut his eyes and sighed deeply. “What happened at the manor?” he asked, and Jason’s breath caught in his chest. He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, couldn’t pretend that nothing had happened. He just hoped that he had more time. “Did I do something wrong?”

Jason shook his head. “Of course not.” He shifted so he was looking Dick in the eye. “You were perfect. You didn’t upset me or anything.”

“Then what did?” God, his voice sounded so fragile in that moment. And Jason wanted nothing more than to hunt Catalina Flores down himself.

He was silent for a long moment. “Damian’s mom?” he asked, and watched as Dick frowned and shifted slightly. “She’s Talia al Ghul?”

“Yeah,” Dick frowned. “You know her?”

“She was kind of my foster mom for awhile,” Jason hugged himself. Dick nodded and moved so he was sat cross-legged, facing Jason. “She, uh, she kind of tried to get me to, um, do some things. And when I didn’t, she…” He saw something flash in Dick’s eyes. He started to speak, but Jason held a hand up. “It wasn’t like that, okay? Nothing happened. And because of that she sent me away.”

Dick shook his head and stood up, pacing back and forth. “Why didn’t you tell me? Christ. That’s so not okay, Jason…”

“I must have led her on or something. It was my fault,” Jason said, his voice small, before he remembered who he was talking to. Dick’s jaw was clenched, his arms crossed. 

“It wasn’t, okay?” he questioned, and Jason shook his head. “God, Jason. If that was your fault, then what the hell do you think about me? About what happened to me?”

“It’s not like that,” Jason’s voice cracked. Why couldn’t he ever do anything right? Why did he always have to say the wrong things?

Dick shook his head and grabbed his keys. “I need to cool down,” he muttered, and Jason watched as he left, the door clicking behind him.

* * *

It was three in the morning. Dick still hadn’t come home, still hadn’t called. And Jason sat on the bathroom floor, dragging his knife along his side, watching the blood bubble up in ribbons, the pain not even phasing him anymore.

If there was an award for putting your foot in your mouth, he was certain he would have won it. 

God, he couldn’t have said anything worse.

He studied the newest cut, admired how clean and straight and perfect it was. He was so lost in his thoughts he barely heard the door to the apartment click back open. “Jason?” he heard Dick’s voice call, and he swore under his breath. 

He quickly hid the knife and started running the tap. He needed enough time to clean up before Dick realized anything was wrong. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond. “Jay?” he could almost imagine his boyfriend searching through the apartment, trying to find him. “You home?”

Jason pulled his shirt back down, turned the water off, and stepped outside, into their bedroom. “Hey,” he sighed and leaned against the doorframe.

Dick was sat on their bed, a knee pulled to his chest. “Hey,” he glanced over. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“You didn’t,” Jason shook his head, but didn’t move away from the door. “I would’ve punched me for something like that.” Roy would have.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dick shook his head. “Like, ever, okay?” And Jason nodded even though he didn’t fully believe him because everyone that he had ever trusted or loved had always hurt him in some way or another. They just needed enough time. “And you didn’t say it out of spite or anything. I shouldn’t have taken it that way. But it wasn’t your fault, okay?”

Jason nodded, even though he didn’t believe him. Because he must have done something. He always did. “It wasn’t yours either.” He watched as Dick nodded, as he wrapped his arms around himself. 

And Jason moved so he was sitting next to him. Like a magnet, Dick moved closer to him, rested his head on Jason’s shoulder. Jason wrapped an arm around his waist. “I love you,” Dick said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” Jason said, and held him through the night.


	5. Somewhere Now

**“I’m running late to somewhere now that I don’t want to be. Where the future and promises ain't what it used to be.”**

Roy lay on his bunk, staring up at the harsh, fluorescent light. He glanced out the window of the cell into the dayroom, watched Waylon playing cards with some of the other inmates. What were they in for? Theft. Federal Hold. Driving While Suspended. Operating While Intoxicated…

The question and response was always the same.

“What are you in for?”

“Domestic battery.”

“Fuck you, man.”

Even with some of the lowest of the low, he was still at the bottom, still not worth anything. Even the other druggies wanted nothing to do with him. But why should he have been? God, he was such an idiot. He had the best thing that had ever happened to him. And he’d thrown him away.

He’d tried calling Jade, but she wouldn’t answer the phone. But he couldn’t blame her for that. He wouldn’t want to talk to him either.

Evening med round. Methadone. Zoloft. Half the others didn’t even take their meds, they pretended to and sold them. But at least it gave Roy something to do, made his mind go fuzzy for a few hours. Even though he knew he should have been avoiding that feeling.

Evening lockdown. Left alone with his thoughts and with Waylon’s criticisms. He meant well. Roy knew he meant well. There was a time he would have called the older man one of his best friends. But he’d disappointed him too many times.

The morning voice on the intercom made his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. “605, Harper?” What had he done? What could he possibly have done to get into trouble? He spent all his time in his bunk reading whatever crappy novel he could find or playing cards with some of the other abusers. 

“Yeah?” he groaned and sat up. Maybe he was being transferred to a new pod, one where he could start fresh.

“Bed and baggage.”

He blinked, thinking he’d misheard. And then he’d smiled.

He was going home.

He rolled off of his bunk and started to pack his things, tensing a bit when he felt a familiar, strong hand pat him on the back. Hesitantly, he turned to face his cellmate. “Make me proud, kid,” he said, and Roy nodded. He wasn’t going to screw up. Not again. But he’d told himself the same thing countless times before. “Don’t let me see you back here again.”

* * *

He was out, but he still had over a year’s worth of probation to do. Random drug testing. Court ordered drug and alcohol program (again). Court ordered anger management classes (again). The list went on and on.

Narcotics anonymous.

His probation officer gave him the card, told him he should check it out. God, he didn’t want to go. What was the point? He was just going to fuck up again, just like he always did. Five broken promises to Jason. Seven to Ollie. Two to Jade.

“Hi, I’m Roy, and I’m an addict.” Because what really helped solve problems? He didn’t know, but he doubted sitting in a circle talking about them would do shit. He was five months clean. He’d been out of jail for a week.

Jade still wasn’t talking to him.

If he had the choice, he wouldn’t talk to him.

Because no one on the face of the planet could ever hate Roy Harper more than Roy Harper.

* * *

“The hell do you mean she’s in a women’s prison?” Roy questioned and dropped his bag on the floor of Ollie’s living room. The lease on his apartment had fallen through. Why wouldn’t it have? Jade was supposed to take care of it while he was locked up. And she had gone and gotten herself locked up too.

“You heard me,” Ollie replied and crossed his arms. “She had a warrant out on her for robbery. You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed his bag. Coming back was a mistake. He started to leave when a thought crossed his mind. He stopped and turned back around. “So what happens to our kid?”

“You’ll have custody of her as soon as she’s born,” Oliver sighed and leaned against the wall.

Roy frowned at that. When he’d been sentenced, the baby was still just a thought. It had barely existed, only a cluster of cells. Now it, no, she, he corrected himself, had a gender. A heartbeat. God, he’d missed so much. 

But he couldn’t be a father, not on his own. She would end up as messed up as he was, if not worse. “I can’t take care of a baby, Ollie,” he shook his head.

He was expecting some smart remark. A, _“Well maybe you should have thought about that before you knocked her up.”_ But instead, Ollie took his bag from him, led him into the living room. “Well, kid,” he sighed and sat down. “I guess you’re going to have to learn.”

* * *

Officer Grayson had been permanently assigned to the drug and alcohol class. And Roy had never met a more self-important, self-absorbed ass in his entire life. And he had grown up around billionaires.

God, it was like the guy looked for excuses to publicly humiliate him. “Look,” one of the girls in the class whispered to another. “All I’m saying is that he could arrest me any time he wanted.” 

It wouldn’t surprise Roy if Grayson used his authority to his advantage, let the cute girls off with a warning if they blew him. 

Class dragged on. Grayson had called him out for being disruptive. All he’d done was make a comment to his buddy that that wasn’t how people really got drugs. But, as with all things, it came to an end. He grabbed his things, helped set the room back to how they’d found it, and headed outside.

He pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, grabbed one, and swore when he realized he’d left his lighter at home. Oliver wouldn’t be happy if he found it, but at least it was better than the drugs. 

He glanced around, hoping someone would let him borrow theirs, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Felt his pulse rush and his face flush. Because Jason was standing near the doorway, arms crossed, glaring daggers at him.

Why the hell was he there?

The door clicked open, and Roy watched as Officer Grayson, complete with his binder of sign-in sheets and pamphlets, stepped outside. Watched as he frowned and approached Jason, asking something Roy couldn’t hear across the distance. Watched as Jason shook his head and muttered something.

Watched as Grayson kissed _his_ Jaybird on the cheek, as he took his hand and led him away.

He turned to face one of his classmates, trying to resist the urge to storm after the pair and get Grayson acquainted with his fist. “Got a light?”

The man nodded and tossed a zippo over to him. With shaking hands, Roy lit up his cigarette and took a long drag. “Want anything stronger?” the man asked and leaned against the brick exterior of the building.

God, he did. But he’d promised Waylon. Again. And Ollie. Again and again and again. He didn’t want to get locked up again. He didn’t want to miss out on more life than he already had.

But he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. He didn’t want to go asleep thinking of stuck-up Grayson with his Jaybird. 

And he pulled the money out of his pocket. And he took the clear, little ziplock bag.

He didn’t even care what it was.

* * *

Lian Harper was born two months early. She was three pounds, five ounces. Her throat wasn’t fully developed. Her lungs weren’t fully developed. She couldn’t breathe on her own. She’d be lucky to live through the night.

Jade held her for three minutes before she was taken to the NICU. Roy held her for five.

He couldn’t imagine holding someone so small, so fragile, so helpless. 

It terrified him. It terrified him more than anything ever had in his life.

And God, it felt so surreal. She was a living, breathing person. He had helped create her. He was responsible for her from that point on.

He stood in the hallway, looking through the glass and into the nursery, the nursery full of healthy, full-term babies in their pink and blue caps. And he looked into the small, clear box holding his tiny baby girl, hooked up to so many lines and leads and monitors. His little girl who would be lucky to live to see the outside of that room.

“I can do this for her,” he whispered to whatever higher power might have been listening. “Get her out of here, and I swear I’ll do better.”

And for the first time, he meant it.


	6. Shattered

**“And I’ve lost who I am and I can’t understand why my heart is so broken rejecting your love without love gone wrong lifeless words carry on and I know, all I know is that the end’s beginning.”**

Jason’s fingertips ghosted across his bare skin. He felt a chill run down his spine. The sheets were soft and light under his body, a nice contrast from the weight on top of it. He was drunk. Drunk on love. Drunk on Jason. “You okay?” his partner asked, bright green eyes concerned, caring.

Catalina’s had always been cold, calculating. Cruel.

“Perfect,” he breathed and pulled Jason back down, tangling his fingers in his hair. It was the furthest they had gone, and God he could have lived in that moment for an eternity. He could have spent his whole life on that high, feeling safe and secure and loved.

And Jason knew exactly what to do to drive him crazy.

And then his hands were on his chest.

And his hands were smaller than they were supposed to be, and his nails were sharper than Dick knew they were. “What’s wrong?” Jason asked, a frown crossing his perfect face.

“Just…” Dick trailed off. _Stop_ He wanted to say it. The word was so easy. Four letters. One syllable. That word had given her power. She had taken it and thrown it out and laughed in his face. Jason had promised he wouldn’t get mad if he said it, would never get mad if he said it. He was in control. He could do this. He could handle it. It was just Jason.

But Jason’s hair was longer and his jawline was smoother and he smelled like cheap perfume instead of stale cigarettes. “It’s okay,” Jason’s voice said, soft, soothing. _It’s all right, baby._

“Can you?” he managed, not even sure what he wanted the end to be. _Can you stop? Can you drop it? Can you shut up?_

“Can I what?” Dick felt the weight on top of him lessen. He opened his eyes to see Jason sat back on his knees, eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t.” Why couldn’t he form a coherent sentence? What was wrong with him? _Don’t touch me. Don’t leave me. Don’t stop._

“You’re scaring me.”

“I’m…” _I’m poison._

_I’m in love with you._

_I’m sorry._

* * *

“You fucking told, Tim!” he shouted, not caring about his tone of voice. Bruce had found out. He could only have found out from one person. God, he’d never been that angry in his life.

“She’s hurting you,” Tim responded, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t going to keep my mouth shut about that.”

“You promised.”

“God, what are you? Five? Wake the fuck up, Dick. You need to get the hell away from her.”

“Fuck you.”

“You know what? Let me know next time you bother to show up. Because I’m fucking done watching you do this to yourself.”

* * *

He woke to voices, darkness, and a pounding headache. Bits and pieces of what had happened in the hours, he assumed it had been hours and not days, before were coming back to him. He hadn’t had a blackout in months, not since meeting Jason.

He rolled over and checked the time on the clock. A bright red 4:32 AM flashed at him. The room was dark. Someone had brought extra blankets in. An unopened bottle of water sat near his lamp, one that he opened and downed in seconds.

A thin line of light shone from below the door. He could hear whispered voices, voices he was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear. “Didn’t know who else to call,” Jason’s voice, more vulnerable than he had heard it in a long time.

“Right thing,” a deeper, more mature voice. 

Great.

He’d blacked out. And Jason had called Bruce. And now Bruce was never going to trust him to do anything on his own ever again.

The door clicked open, and he pulled the blanket up around his shoulders, rolled on his side, pretended to still be asleep.

“Hey chum,” he felt a strong hand on his back, between his shoulder blades. A safe touch. A familiar touch. He focused on his breathing, keeping it deep and even. He didn’t want to face whatever conversation Bruce wanted to have when he was awake. Not then. “I have to say, I wasn’t sure about this Jason kid at first.” Another blanket was thrown on top of him. “But between you and me?” 

The hand left his back. He felt the mattress lift back up, no longer weighed down by Bruce. He heard his adoptive father’s footsteps circle around to where he was facing. A fatherly kiss on his forehead. One he hadn’t felt since he was still a kid. “I think you found a good one.”

* * *

He was in a hospital bed. His stomach was bandaged and his arm was burning from the painkillers and antibiotics being pumped into his veins. Wally had finished taking his report. Bruce hadn’t even yelled at him.

But most surprising of all, Tim was at his bedside, not looking at Dick, but staring out the window on the opposite side of the bed, the one that showed nothing but a view of the brick wall of the connecting building. “I was there,” he spoke softly. “The night your parents died.”

And Dick shut his eyes tightly again because the last thing he needed was to relive that. 

“I was just a kid. I don’t even remember most of it. But I remember how devastated you looked. I remembered you screaming. And I thought, man, no one ever deserves to feel like that. I hope he can be happy one day,” he was silent, and after a moment, Dick carefully turned to face him.

“And then I found out you were adopted by my dad’s best friend, and God, I idolized you. And I saw you become happy again. And when my parents died, you hugged me and told me it was going to be okay because you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. And it just feels really, really shitty knowing I couldn’t keep the bad things from happening to you too.”

He watched as Tim turned to face him.

“And it hurts so, so much seeing you like this. Like you’re still that kid from the circus who lost everything in a matter of seconds. And I’m sorry about what I said. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

He reached out and took his little brother’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours either.”

* * *

His alarm went off at 5:30, blaring its high-pitched beep, just like every weekday morning. He groaned and rolled over to turn it off, wondering where the night had gone. It seemed like he had just fallen asleep.

Jason wasn’t beside him. But that wasn’t unusual. But something felt different, like something had happened…

And then he remembered. They had been together. And he had freaked out. Again. And Jason had called Bruce and…

Fuck. Jason had called Bruce.

He dragged himself out of bed, knowing he could only delay the inevitable for so long. He wrapped one of the blankets around his shoulders and stepped out of the bedroom. 

Bruce was sat at the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Hey kid,” he greeted, a rare, warm smile on his face. God, how bad a state had he been in the night before? “Jason’s at work.” Dick nodded and grabbed a cup of coffee for himself. He needed to down it quick, needed to take a shower and get ready for work. “Sit down. Relax. You’re not going in today.”

How many times was he going to have to have someone else call in for him? God, though, he’d never been more grateful for an understanding boss. “What are you doing here?” he leaned against the counter.

Bruce was silent for a moment, and Dick wondered if he was going to get the full truth out of the man. “Jason called around ten. Said you weren’t making any sense. I talked him out of calling an ambulance.” Dick nodded and took a long drink of his coffee. “It’s getting bad again?”

He nodded, glad they never had to discuss what the ‘it’ in question was.

“Okay,” Bruce nodded and turned to face him. “So what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head and set his mug down by the sink. 

He expected Bruce to takeover, just like he always had. To start making decisions for him again, just like after his hospital stint. But instead, Bruce had set his own mug down and looked at Dick, really looked at him. “That’s okay,” he said, voice soft. “We’ll figure it out.”


	7. Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a psychiatrist nor any other mental health professional. Please do not take anything in this chapter as being medical advice.

**“Caught up in the touch, slow and steady rush, baby isn’t that the way that love’s supposed to be? I can feel you breathe.”**

Nights were the worst, for both of them it seemed, but especially for Jason. During the day, he was distracted. He could worry about deadlines and office banter and what he was having for lunch that day, and what Dick was up to on his patrol.

But nights?

At night he lay awake, sometimes with his eyes closed, usually with them open, staring at the ceiling. It was an off-white, just like everything else in the apartment. The ceiling fan had three wings. The longer chain was broken off at the end.

If he paid attention to it, he could hear his pulse in his neck, beating against the pillow. Thump. Thump. Thump. Sometimes he worried it was so loud it would wake Dick up. But it never did.

He had to focus on these things. If he didn’t, he would go back to the dark place he didn’t want to stay in, the place that reminded him of every wrong thing he’d ever done, reminded him of how worthless he was.

Dick was getting bad, and Jason had no idea how to help him, especially not when he was still trying to understand his own situation. He turned onto his side and studied his boyfriend’s face, taking in his sharp jawline, his lightly tanned skin. He watched his chest rise and fall. Up. Down. Up. Down

“I love you,” he said softly and wrapped the comforter up around his shoulders, breathing in the scent. Safe. Secure. Together.

He curled up next to Dick and shut his eyes, even though he doubted sleep would come.

It rarely did.

* * *

The first alarm, Dick’s alarm, blared at 5:30 in the morning, just like always. Jason groaned and rolled onto his other side, pulling the comforter up over his head. At least Dick would be switching to third-shift in a few weeks. Gordon had thought a change in pace might help him settle down. And God, Jason hoped he was right.

Because it was as if, in the middle of the night, some alien had come into their bedroom and replaced happy-go-lucky Dick Grayson with an emotional wreck. And God, Jason hated seeing him like that. It wasn’t right. Sometimes he thought it went against the very laws of nature.

He waited for the click of the bathroom door and the familiar screech of the water being turned on before sitting up and checking his phone. _‘How is he?’_ a text from Bruce. If someone would have told kid Jason he’d be texting a billionaire before sunrise as an adult, he would have said they were insane, and probably thrown in a slug in the arm for good measure.

_‘Slept through the night,’_ Jason responded and stretched before heading out into the kitchen to make breakfast and a pot of coffee. He turned on the tap, filled a glass with water, and took his morning meds. _Todd, Jason P. Diazepam. Generic for: Valium. Take 3 times a day for 30 days then as needed to treat anxiety._

He hated it, hated that he needed to take a pill just to function, just to feel the way that normal people were supposed to feel all the time. But he hated how he felt without them more.

“Hey,” Dick yawned and hugged him from behind. Jason smiled and turned to face him. He was already in full uniform, ready to go. “Smells good.”

“Be ready in a few minutes,” Jason kissed his cheek before turning back to the stove.

“I should probably head to work.”

“You still have an hour,” Jason reminded, turning to face him. “You need to eat. No arguing.”

Jason watched him. He looked like he wanted to argue, but only for a moment. “You’re right,” he nodded and smiled. Not a genuine smile. Not the carefree Dick Grayson smile that Jason had fallen in love with. A forced, ‘I’m-smiling-because-you-want-me-to,’ smile. An ‘I’m-not-okay-but-I’m-pretending-to-be,’ smile. 

Jason was an expert on those. He’d had to do it enough when he’d been with Roy. _Yeah Kory, everything’s great. Hit my head on a shelf at work. No big deal._

“What would I do without you?” Dick asked and poured a cup of coffee, handing one to Jason before pouring a cup for himself as well.

“God only knows,” Jason laughed and handed him a plate.

He didn’t know where Dick would be without him. But Jason knew where Jason would be without Dick. Still with Roy. Still miserably unhappy. Maybe even dead.

If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that Dick Grayson had saved his life. And he was determined to return the favor.

* * *

He’d fucked up.

God, he’d fucked up.

It had been a rough day at work. He’d screwed up something on a draft, and his boss had torn into him. And he hadn’t even been thinking when he grabbed the pair of scissors from his desk and headed into the bathroom.

God, there was so much blood.

It had been an accident.

He swore on his life that it was an accident.

But a cut that deep needed medical attention. And his cubicle neighbor who had happened into the bathroom around that time had flipped and called an ambulance.

And he was stuck flex-cuffed to a hospital bed for what he understood appeared to be a suicide attempt, even though it wasn’t, being interviewed by the blonde girl from the support group and getting checked on every fifteen minutes.

God, Dick was going to flip.

* * *

**Gotham Mercy Hospital**

**Attending Physician:** Dr. Harleen Quinzel

**Patient:** Jason Peter Todd

**Encounter:** Suicide Attempt

**Statement of Need:** Jason Todd was admitted into the Gotham Mercy psychiatric unit after a coworker discovered him in the middle of what appeared to be a suicide attempt. Jason appeared to have slit his left leg open, near a major artery. Jason denies any intent to kill himself.

**Presenting Problems and Situation:** Jason Todd is a 22-year-old male who lives with his current boyfriend, Richard Grayson. He was previously involved in an abusive relationship with his live-in partner Roy Harper. Criminal charges were pressed. Jason previously lived in student housing at Gotham University, where he studied English Literature with a minor in Theology. 

His mother, Catherine Todd, died of a drug overdose. His father, Willis Todd, was shot and killed in a gang-related incident. He reports childhood abuse and neglect. He lived in no less than seven foster homes. He reports occasional physical abuse from foster parents. He denies any sexual abuse.

**Current Symptoms / Behaviors:** Jason reports an overwhelming feeling of sadness. He stated he felt the need to harm himself in order to distract himself from his thoughts. He reports little to no sleep, and states that what little sleep he does get is restless at best. He has reported several panic attacks from the past week, each lasting approximately ten minutes, and sometimes experiencing more than one per day. He can think of very little he likes about himself.

Jason reports that he enjoys reading, but has not had time to do so lately, and that when he does have time, he no longer enjoys the activity.

He denies hallucinations and delusions. He denies obsessions and compulsions. Activity level, attention, and concentration were observed to be within normal limits, though concentration would occasionally shift. He denies any symptoms of eating disorders. There is no recent weight loss or gain. He denies wanting to kill himself or others.

**Psychiatric Treatment History:** Jason is currently undergoing psychiatric treatment for Major Depressive Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder, and Panic Disorder. He has reported previous treatment for Major Depressive Disorder and Conduct Disorder. He reports finding counseling helpful.

**Substance Abuse History:** None reported

**Alcohol and Drug Intake (Past 30 Days):** None reported. Strong negative feelings toward alcohol and drugs.

**Current Medication Regimen:** Valium 10 mg 3 times a day. Zoloft 20 mg once a day.

**Physician’s Recommendation:** No involuntary hold necessary. Patient clear to be discharged. Patient should continue outpatient counseling and medication.

* * *

He stepped into the hospital waiting room holding the clear ziplock bag containing his wallet, shoelaces, and belt, and shut his eyes when he saw Dick in the waiting room, looking more pale and worried than he’d ever seen the man in his life. “Hey,” the older man greeted and pulled Jason into a tight hug.

“Hey,” he took a shaky breath and rested his head on Dick’s chest. “Sorry I scared you,” he added, voice small. He wondered if this was it. If Dick was finally going to leave him. Because, really, who wanted to put up with a guy who got rushed to the ER for cutting too deep? Especially when the incident happened at work.

“Glad you’re okay,” Dick responded and stepped back, looking Jason over. Jason stared at his feet, not wanting to look his boyfriend in the eye. He didn’t know what to say. What could he say?

He got into the car, knowing Dick was going to want to talk. And that was the absolute last thing Jason wanted to do. He just wanted to go home and try to sleep everything off. Try to forget it ever happened. 

The ride home had been agonizingly silent.

He followed Dick into the apartment, watched as he fumbled with the keys before eventually opening the door. “Get some sleep, okay?” he sighed and leaned against the wall. It was only then that Jason really registered how tired he looked, how dark the circles under his eyes were, how much older he appeared. “We can talk later.”

He nodded and set his bag down before heading off to bed.

And really, the clock had been ticking down since the moment he first laid eyes on Dick Grayson.

Because Jason ruined every good thing that had ever happened to him.

He should have known better than to think that time would be any different.


	8. Hum Hallelujah

**“So hum hallelujah just off the key of reason. I thought I loved you; it was just how you looked in the light. A teenage vow in a parking lot: ‘til tonight do us part. I sing the blues and swallow them too.”**

He hated hospitals. He always had, and he didn’t doubt he always would. Nothing good ever happened in them. His mother had died giving birth to him in one. His father had been pronounced dead from smoke inhalation in one. He’d found out he’d never have full mobility in his arm again in one. 

He sat in a chair facing the large window looking into the nursery and watched Lian, sleeping soundly. He wondered how it was possible to sleep so soundly with all the beeping monitors and stinging leads. She had been lucky to survive the first night. It was a miracle she survived the second.

Yawning, he glanced at the clock above the window. 3:42 AM. When had he last slept? He couldn’t remember. He was the only one left in the hall. The nurses had been keeping him company, at least the ones that weren’t trying to get him to leave. There was nothing he could do. He should have gone home and tried to sleep it off. But he refused to leave.

It was 6:32 AM when Roy caught movement out of the corner of his eye. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” he asked the man who approached him. If not at work, then asleep. Or maybe he hadn’t slept yet. Oliver wasn’t exactly known for his healthy habits. Maybe it was a nurture thing and not a nature thing after all.

“Perks of being in charge,” he answered. “Can skip when I feel like it.” He sat down in the chair directly next to Roy, something that would have made him a bit uncomfortable in any other circumstance. In that moment, though, Roy was grateful for the proximity. “And given everything going on right now, I felt like it. How is she?”

“Same, I guess,” Roy answered, never looking away from the tiny baby kept away from the healthy ones, the ones who would go home with their mothers in a matter of days. Roy would be lucky if Lian could go home in a matter of weeks. He tried to remember what everyone kept telling him. No change was good change. No news was good news. God, though, he wished someone would tell him something.

Oliver nodded and glanced over at the girl, then back at Roy. “Go get some sleep, kid,” he spoke. Roy started to open his mouth to argue. He needed to stay. He needed to keep an eye on her. Nothing would go wrong if he could keep her in his sight. “You’ve been awake at least two days, probably more. Dying from exhaustion won’t help anything.”

God, he hated when Ollie was right. 

“I’ll be right here. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

Roy shut his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath before opening them again. “Okay,” he said and stood up, taking one last look at his girl before heading out of the wing.

* * *

He lay in his bed at Oliver’s house, staring up at the ceiling. He had given up on sleep hours ago. Lian had been in the world less than 72 hours, and he already loved her more than he could have imagined loving anyone else. But the thought of raising her… that terrified him.

She deserved better than an abusive junkie. He had to be better than the abusive junkie he knew he was. But he had promised so many people that he would get better, that he would be better. And he’d failed those promises again and again and again and again.

He didn’t know what kind of a father Roy Harper Sr. would have been. He’d died before Roy had turned three. Brave Bow had been the best father figure Roy had ever had. At least until he’d been forced to leave the reservation at age thirteen. Even then, people could see the evil in him. Because what was he, if not evil? He did nothing but ruin lives and break hearts. Maybe that’s all he would ever do.

He had to do better than Ollie. For Lian’s sake, he had to do better than Ollie had with him. But he couldn’t blame the older man too much. He’d had a thirteen year old thrust on him out of nowhere. Oliver hadn’t been ready to be a parent, that much had been clear. He would have been a great older brother. Maybe, had they been born a little closer to one another, they would have been best friends. He liked to think that.

He remembered the stories and legends Brave Bow had taught him. He remembered especially, “The Sun, Moon, and Stars.” The memories were tangled by then, and he had never bothered to memorize the legends and stories like he should have. But one part had always stood out so clearly as a child, and he doubted he would ever forget it.

_First Woman answered, ‘You always make mistakes, and then there is trouble.’_

_But Coyote insisted, saying, ‘I will do exactly as you say and follow the pattern just as you have placed it on the ground.’_

Roy had always rooted for Coyote, then as a child, and even now as an adult. Every time he heard the story, he wanted Coyote to prove himself, wanted him to do right. And every time Coyote had failed, proving himself to be the mistake everyone else knew him to be.

_‘Now look what you’ve done,’ she cried. ‘Those two were supposed to establish peace and friendship among all peoples of the Earth. Now they will cause enmity, strife, and dissention that will plague mankind forever.’_

He hadn’t meant to drop the stars. It had been a mistake. Just like Roy had made a mistake when he asked his friends for their pills. He never wanted to have that problem. He never wanted to hurt anyone. But lately it seemed like that was all he ever did. All he ever would do.

Roy couldn’t remember the beginning nor the end. He liked to think there was a happy ending for Coyote, even if it wasn’t formally recorded or passed down. If he could have a happy ending, he who damned humanity to hate one another, then maybe there was hope for Roy too.

_You always make mistakes and then there is trouble._

He could hear the words ringing in his head. But they weren’t in the voice he imagined as belong to First Woman. They belonged to Ollie, to Jason, even to Jade. 

_Now look what you’ve done._

* * *

Roy woke with a start. He hadn’t remembered falling asleep. He rolled over and checked the time. 4:12 PM. He hoped Ollie had kept his promise to keep an eye on Lian. Feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he checked his phone to see if he had any missed calls or texts.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when he only saw one text from Ollie, sent only half an hour prior. _‘Bring food when you come back. Starving.’_

He laughed for the first time in what seemed like forever. _‘Sure,’_ he replied. _‘What do you want?’_ before changing his clothes and grabbing a few things to keep his mind occupied once he returned.

He felt sick when he unlocked his phone and saw a bubble by his calendar. He’d been so worried about everything going on, about keeping an eye on Lian, that he’d missed his court ordered class. Grayson’s class.

Grayson who was fucking his Jaybird. Grayson who had it out for him. Grayson who wouldn’t skip a beat signing the papers to get Roy’s probation revoked and have him sent right back to his cell with Waylon. Grayson could get a warrant signed before Roy could blink.

He couldn’t get locked up again. Not when he had a little girl who needed him. Not when he had finally sworn, not to others, but to himself, to get his life back on track. Or maybe on track for the first time. 

He needed a damn miracle. And he needed to find Officer Grayson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of, "The Sun, Moon, and Stars" can be found here: http://www.hanksville.org/voyage/stories/sunmoonandstars.php3


	9. Lithium

**“Don’t want to let it lay me down this time. Drown my will to fly. Here in the darkness I know myself. Can’t break free until I let it go. Let me go.”**

“Why didn’t you tell me you were suicidal?” It was amazing, Jason thought. Sometimes when Dick talked, Bruce came out. He’d only known Bruce Wayne for a short time, but he could see where Dick got some of his mannerisms and ways of speaking from. He wasn’t sure that it was healthy, but it wasn’t his place to ask. Especially not in the given circumstances.

Because of course that was the first question. It was always the first question. “It’s not like that,” he said, and it wasn’t. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to stay alive. He wanted to stay alive so damn bad it hurt. But it was hard to do when he felt dead on the inside, like he was an observer watching some robot go through the life that had once belonged to Jason Todd.

“You could have died.” Dick’s eyes, normally so full of light and life had gone dark, though Jason wasn’t sure if they were dark with anger, worry, or some twisted combination of both.

God, did Dick think he was an idiot? He knew he could have died. That’s why his general doctor had wanted the involuntary hold his psychiatrist had cancelled. “You don’t get it, okay?” he snapped, his tone harsher than he had meant for it to be. No one ever understood it, it seemed. At least Roy had ignored it. “You don’t get it, okay?”

“Then help me to,” Dick threw his hands to his side, no longer crossing them. “God, Jason,” he ran a hand through his hair. “You could have fucking died and it’s like you don’t even care.”

And Jason had to bite back the impulse he felt to laugh. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe it would’ve been better for both of them if he’d had the decency to die. At least then they wouldn’t be having that argument. Dick could go off and find someone ten times better than Jason, and Jason wouldn’t have to see everything come crumbling down around him.

“Can you please just say something?” Dick asked, voice pleading, maybe even a little afraid. But what could he possibly be afraid of? All Jason did was make things worse. He was a ticking time bomb, and he was set on a course to take Dick down with him. It was only a matter of time before Dick saw that and left him. 

He should apologize for worrying him. Jason knew that. But he didn’t care, not when everything was still heated and fresh. “I need a fucking cigarette,” he muttered, grabbing his jacket and letting the door fall closed behind him.

* * *

He wandered into the bad part of Bludhaven, not that any part of the city could have been considered good. The dilapidated buildings, boarded up windows, and lingering smell of burnt heroin and meth were calming, in a twisted sort of way. It was like home, or at least what he had once called home.

Other people would have been repulsed, angry. Some would have taken pity on the people that lived on that street. Jason just watched and studied. He could see a too-skinny woman with sunken eyes slumped against a brick wall, shoelace tied around her arm, a tattooed man carrying a handgun screaming at a girl who barely looked sixteen.

He could see a boy who couldn’t have been older than nine sink into an alleyway. Jason liked to hope the boy was okay. That his parents were alive and gave a damn, that he wasn’t going to bed hungry, that he actually stood a chance.

He should have ended up just like them. Hell, he probably shouldn’t have even made it past his teen years. From the moment he was born, all people had done was tell him about how he wasn’t worth anything. His teachers expected him to fail the minute they saw him walk into their classrooms, second-hand clothes and a ripped backpack on his back. He should have been just another statistic.

Jason lit up another cigarette and blew smoke rings up at the sky. Roy had never really had to deal with any of that shit. He’d been adopted by the first foster parent that had had him, a filthy rich man at that. And he was still willing to throw all of it away to be just like the people Jason had grown up around. Jason would have died before going back, at least before going back for good.

His phone was going off, and he didn’t care. Dick could worry all he wanted. Jason needed to get his thoughts together, and he needed to do that alone. The absolute last thing he needed was another person telling him what he was feeling. How the hell would they know? They weren’t in his head.

Sometimes he felt like he wasn’t in his own head either.

* * *

Dick was already at work by the time Jason had returned to the apartment. Gordon had shifted him to third shift early, after one of the officers had quit earlier than expected to. The door closed with a click that echoed through the empty apartment. 

Jason set his things down on the counter by the sink before plopping down on the couch, staring at the blank television screen. He thought about turning it on to try and keep his mind distracted, but he knew it wouldn’t work for long. Nothing ever did.

His mind was exhausted and his body felt heavy, but he couldn’t bring himself to go to bed, not when the room was just as empty, and not when his mind kept replaying the argument over and over and over again. He wished he would have stayed, that he would have handled things differently. But he couldn’t change that, no matter how much he wished he could.

He curled up on the couch, head on the armrest, and stared at the wall, studying the Flying Graysons poster, starting to yellow with age. Would Dick’s parents have liked him? He didn’t know. He wondered if Dick ever thought about that too.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when the alarm on his phone he had set for work went off, its sharp beep cutting through what had once been silence, he was still on the couch. But a blanket had been draped over him, not the cheap throw they kept in the living room for guests, but one of the nicer ones they kept in their bedroom for the cold winters when the landlord wouldn’t pay to get their heater fixed.

“Hey,” a soft, careful voice greeted him, and Jason carefully sat up and turned to face Dick, who was seated on the armchair next to the sofa, still in full uniform, dark circles under his eyes.

“Hey,” Jason sighed and pulled a knee to his chest. How long had Dick sat watching him? It couldn’t have been long. His shift would have only ended an hour or so before. “I’m…” he started to speak, but Dick shook his head.

“I’m just trying to understand this, okay?” he asked, voice tired, resigned even. And Jason hated hearing him like that. “Because I don’t. I really, really don’t. But I want to so I can help you because this isn’t okay, okay?” Jason nodded. “And you disappearing after you were just in the fucking psych ward really isn’t okay either. I tried calling you so many times, and you didn’t answer, and I thought…” he trailed off, but Jason didn’t care. He could fill in the blanks himself. 

“I’m okay,” Jason sighed. How many times had he said it? He didn’t even know when it was true and when it was a lie anymore. It was what people wanted to hear. No one wanted the real answer. No one ever would. It was automatic by that point.

“That’s the thing, Jason,” Dick shook his head. “You’re not, okay? You're nowhere near okay, and I don’t know if you ever have been, and that scares me because I don’t know what to do or say or…” 

Jason was the one to cut him off that time. “You’re doing everything right, okay?” he asked, then paused for a moment. “Almost everything, at least.”

“Can you please just tell me if there’s anything I can do?”

“Just keep being you, Goldie,” Jason wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. “Just keep being you.”

* * *

Dick was sound asleep when Jason came home, something Jason was glad to see. His boyfriend never got enough rest. He was always too busy taking care of everyone else, and Jason worried it would get him killed one day. He draped an extra blanket over Dick’s sleeping body, returning the favor from earlier, and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I love you,” he said, voice soft, quiet. He doubted Dick could hear it even if he were awake, but Jason didn’t care. He didn’t deserve Dick Grayson. He never would. But the crazy world had brought them together, and he’d be damned if he let anything or anyone come between that, even if that person was himself and the enemy was his own mind.

“You and me against the world, Goldie,” he whispered. He had thought the nickname was ridiculous the first time he’d seen it, back when Dick had first followed him on all his social media. But God it made sense. Because he was imperfectly perfect. He was a shimmer of goodness in their fucked up world. “Let’s kick its ass.”


	10. Spotlight

**"And when you feel the war cannot be won you're gonna die to try what can't be done. Go on and say, say it out that you don't care. Now is there nothing like that inside of you anywhere?"**

Acclimating to third shift had been easier than Dick had originally anticipated. He had been dreading it for days, but when it had finally come around and he’d finally gotten used to the change, he found that he loved it. Sleeping during the day was easier for him, as though nothing bad could ever happen while the sun was out.

But if there was one thing Gotham criminals liked more than the streets during the day, it was the streets at night. He’d made five arrests in his first two shifts. Four had been for stupid things, drunk driving, drug possession. But the fifth had been a brutal assault, and he still couldn’t shake the memory.

Before, he had been able to come home to Jason and vent about his day. But now Jason’s day was beginning just as Dick’s was ending, and they still hadn’t worked out the kinks on the communication front. He just hoped it wouldn’t be long before they fell back into a routine.

He stepped through the apartment door at 6:33 AM, and was met by a sleepy “Hey,” from Jason, who was sat at the kitchen table, mug of coffee in one hand, newspaper in the other. He’d stolen one of Dick’s plain white t-shirts, a shirt that was fitted on Dick, and tight on Jason, something that made Dick smile. “How was your shift?”

“Fine,” Dick lied and poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting across from Jason. He gritted his teeth when he saw his binder for the drug and alcohol class still sitting on the counter. He was supposed to have turned it in days ago, but the shift change still had his head reeling. He made a mental note to take it into the station later that morning, sleep be damned. 

Jason raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push it, something Dick was grateful for. He still needed time to process everything himself. “I should get to work,” Jason folded up the paper and set it down on the table. Dick stood and kissed him goodbye, watching as the door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

He woke with a start when he heard a knock on the door, immediately thinking it was her. Bruce had a key. And Damian would have announced himself or demanded for Dick to answer the door. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced at the gun safe on the shelf of the open closet, wondering if he should grab it before checking.

Sighing, he tossed the comforter to the side and stepped into the living room. Maybe their neighbor had had another nasty fall. She was an elderly woman, and it happened from time to time. Dick had taken her to the emergency room himself the last time it had happened. “Just a minute,” he groaned when the person knocked again.

Taking a deep breath to brace himself for whatever was on the other side, he placed his hand on the doorknob and cracked it open, wanting to slam it immediately shut when he saw the tall, redheaded man standing on the other side. 

They would have to move again, if Roy knew where they were staying. Not to mention Dick was pretty sure there was a court order in place preventing Harper from being anywhere near the apartment building. But Bludhaven wasn’t in his jurisdiction, at least not anymore. “Jason’s not here. And even if he was I wouldn’t let you in.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Dick watched as the man shifted his weight back and forth, rocking on his feet. 

“How did you even get this address?” Dick demanded, blocking what little space there was between the door and the apartment with his body. Roy started to speak, but Dick shook his head. “You know what? I don’t care. Get the hell out.”

“Please,” Roy said, and if Dick didn’t know any better, he would have thought the older man was begging. He crossed his arms and looked the man over, searching for anything that would give away that the redhead was lying, or that he had an ulterior motive. 

“This had better be good, Harper.”

* * *

It was his day off, and his internal clock still wanted him to sleep as late as possible, but Jason had gotten up early as always. In the few months they’d lived together, Dick had learned that if anything, Jason was a creature of habit. Sometimes he thought that wasn’t so bad.

He groaned when he heard the water in the bathroom screech on, climbed out of bed, and changed into a pair of sweats and a tank top before heading to the kitchen. “Morning,” Jason yawned as he entered a few moments later, hair still dripping wet.

“Morning,” Dick greeted and took a swig from his coffee mug. He watched as Jason poured himself a glass of water and took his meds. “Hey Jay?”

“Yeah?” Jason turned to face him, leaning his elbows against the corner counter, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Roy kind of came by yesterday while you were gone.”

The confused look changed to one of hatred in a matter of seconds, and for a moment, just a moment, Dick regretted the decision he had made the day before. “How did he find out where we live?” a hint of panic in his voice. “This is bad. Shit, this is really bad. You really need to get that warrant from when he missed the class…”

“Jay, I’m not requesting a warrant,” Dick shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to see the look he knew would greet him. He didn’t want to see those green eyes full of hurt that he had been the one to cause.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Dick opened his eyes and watched as Jason slammed his mug down on the counter and shook his head. “He could fucking kill me, and you’ve been waiting for something like this to happen and you’re just going to let him go? Whose side are you on?”

“Jay…”

“No,” Jason shook his head again. “You don’t get to ‘Jay’ me right now.” 

“If I thought he was going to hurt you, I wouldn’t be doing this.” And it was the truth. He’d been looking for any reason, even a small one, to get Roy sent back behind bars. But when he’d shown up at the apartment and explained that he’d missed the class because his newborn daughter might not make it through the week… It had been a far-fetched tale, one Dick had heard other people say before, but he couldn’t help but believe that Roy had been telling the truth, maybe even for the first time in his life.

“Yeah, and how well did trusting that someone wouldn’t hurt you go for you last time?” Jason snapped, and Dick felt his blood boil. He could see the instant regret in Jason’s eyes, but he didn’t care. He stood up and grabbed his keys. “Dick, I…”

“I’m staying at Bruce’s tonight,” Dick muttered and shut the door behind him without even bothering to turn back.

* * *

The fight was still replaying in his head when he pulled up to the manor and approached the door. He didn’t know why he bothered knocking, Alfred and Bruce would both remind him that it was still his home, even if he no longer lived there. “Ah, Master Dick,” Alfred smiled. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Hey,” Dick smiled and hugged the older man before stepping inside.

“Masters Timothy and Damian are in school at the moment,” Alfred spoke and took Dick’s bags. Dick started to argue that he was more than capable of handling them himself, but Alfred held a hand up to stop him. “I believe Master Bruce is in the office at the moment, but he should be arriving home any moment.”

“Hey, Alfred?” Dick asked as the older man started up the stairs. He waited for Alfred to turn before continuing. “Thanks. For everything.”

“No trouble at all,” Alfred smiled.

* * *

Three-thirty rolled around sooner than later, and after talking with Alfred, Dick had convinced the butler to let him pick his brothers up from school. He waited by the car and chatted with a few of the parents while he waited for Tim and Damian to appear. 

He watched Tim exit the building, and watched as his confused frown shifted into a huge smile when he saw Dick. “Hey!” the teen hugged him tightly. “Haven’t seen you in forever.”

Dick laughed and patted him on the back before stepping back. Damian, ever-present scowl on his face, dropped his bag down beside his feet. “What did Todd do?”

Dick’s smile, however forced and fake it had been, faded. Why did Damian always have to see right through people? “Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he got back into the driver’s seat and fiddled with the mirror, even though no one but him had ever driven the car. He knew what they were thinking, and he couldn’t blame them for it. When things had gotten especially bad with Catalina, he had been known to randomly pop up at the manor, more chipper than ever, for a few days before disappearing again for weeks at a time.

Tim climbed into the passenger seat, and Dick pretended not to hear Damian complain about it. He started to drive off, making sure to be careful of the other students still hanging around the parking lot.

He couldn’t pretend not to hear Tim’s, “You’re still a terrible liar.”


	11. All I Wanted

**“I would follow you to the beginning just to relive the start. Maybe then we’d remember to slow down at all of our favorite parts.”**

God, why couldn’t Jason just keep his damned mouth shut? He’d been distracted at work all day the next morning. Yeah, and how well did trusting someone wouldn’t hurt you go for you last time? Still. He was scared. Hell, scared didn’t begin to cover it. He was terrified.

He parked his car and entered the building. And he felt sick to his stomach when he got to their door. Dick was still at the manor. Roy knew where they lived… But it was the only place he could stay.

Sighing, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He wondered if he’d ever get used to the quiet. When Dick was home, things were never silent. Between his constant chatter and whatever the hell he had on their tiny television their shitty apartment was always full of life.

Now it was dead. And Jason had never felt more alone. Well, almost never.

He frowned when he saw a half-folded piece of paper sticking out from under their key tray, and against his better judgment pulled it out to read it. _In the Hudson County Circuit Court 2. Petition for Protective Order. Richard J. Grayson (petitioner) v. Catalina Flores (respondent)._ Dick had already filed it, though. It didn’t make sense for him to have a copy. Jason frowned and flipped to the next page. There it was, in big, bold letters. _**PETITION DENIED.**_

He felt his heart skip a beat when he heard a knock at their door. Surely to God Roy wouldn’t be stupid enough to come back a second time. Even if things had gone well for him the first time. “Just a minute,” he called and hesitated to cross back to the door. He glanced through the peephole and breathed a sigh of relief when it was just their next-door neighbor on the other side.

_Got to stop being so damn paranoid, Todd,_ he thought as he answered the door. He couldn’t wait to close it again. He was safe inside the apartment. No one could hurt him there.

* * *

His heart skipped a beat when he came home from the grocery store on Saturday afternoon. Dick’s patrol car was in the parking lot. Was he home for good, or had he been trying to catch the apartment while Jason was gone? He didn’t think Dick was the type to just pack up and leave while Jason was gone.

But he’d also thought he’d known Roy once upon a time. And he’d been dead wrong there.

He took a deep breath before unlocking the door and stepping inside, frowning when he saw Dick sitting at the table, waiting for him. “Hey,” Dick greeted with a sigh.

“Hey,” Jason frowned in confusion and hung his jacket up. The only nice thing about Dick being gone that week was that Jason had finally been able to deep clean the damn place.

“I should have told you sooner,” Dick sighed.

“Yeah, you think?” Jason responded, unable to keep the ice out of his tone. “I would’ve told you the second it happened if she showed up.”

“I know,” Dick sighed and took a long sip from his mug of coffee.

Jason sighed and poured himself a cup as well before sitting across from his boyfriend. At least, he assumed they were still together. “I’m sorry too. About what I said.”

“Don’t be,” Dick replied and set his mug down on the table. “I probably would’ve done the same thing if the situation was reversed.”

Jason nodded and took a drink and tried not to gag. God, why did Dick always have to brew it so damn strong? “So what do we do?” he asked, not knowing if he was talking about the Roy situation or the relationship situation.

“I don’t know,” Dick sighed and leaned back in his chair, balancing it on the two back legs.

“Yeah,” Jason sighed and stared into his mug. “Well neither do I.”

* * *

Dick had only been gone a week, but getting back into a routine had still been difficult. It was amazing how fast Jason had acclimated to doing everything on his own. And it was amazing how many little things Dick did that drove him up the fucking wall. “Hey,” Dick yawned when he came in through the door right at 7 AM. Jason wondered if he’d ever get used to him working third shift.

“Hey,” Jason greeted and glared when Dick dropped his jacket onto the floor. “Seriously?” he questioned.

“What?” Dick replied and shot Jason a confused expression.

“I’m not your fucking mom, pick it up and hang it up.” God, why was it so damn difficult for Dick to pick up after himself? Sometimes Jason wondered how it was Dick had managed to function on his own.

But as much as Dick did little things that bothered the hell out of him, he also did little things that made Jason love him even more. Little things like making coffee before he went to bed so it was ready when Jason got up for work. Things like sending just-because cards to his office.

He frowned when he came home from work and Dick was sat on the couch, not dressed in uniform yet. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” he asked, and Dick just shook his head in reply. “What’s wrong?” Jason frowned and sat down beside him.

“Protective order got denied,” Dick answered and curled up to Jason’s side. Jason wrapped an arm around his shoulders and played with his hair. “Which is fine. I figured it would be. But our address was on the copy of the order she got served with.”

Jason nodded and kissed his forehead. He knew exactly how Dick was feeling. And he wouldn’t have wished that feeling on anyone in the world. And if Roy and Catalina both knew where they lived? They had to leave. They had to leave as soon as they could. But they still had another six months left on their lease.

“I’m so, so sorry I made you go through this,” Dick’s voice broke and he shut his eyes. “Because this is the worst feeling in the world.” And Jason knew exactly what he was talking about. The sick, twisted feeling in the pit of the stomach. The erratic heart rate. The feeling that nothing was ever going to be okay again. The feeling that every time they got close to getting away, the people that hurt them just caught back up to them again…

Jason sighed and kept playing with his hair. “It’s okay,” he lied. Nothing about that situation was okay in the slightest. But reliving old fights wasn’t going to do anything to help them. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

And Dick nodded but didn’t reply, and Jason couldn’t help but think he didn’t believe him.

* * *

“So there’s this thing at work,” Jason commented. It was a Sunday morning and he lay next to Dick, Dick’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. God, he could have spent forever in that moment, feeling safe and protected, like nothing could ever go wrong. 

“Yeah?” Dick asked and tilted his head to look at Jason.

“Yeah, it’s just a stupid thing. Employee appreciation or something like that,” Jason said as he traced random patterns onto Dick’s chest. “And, well, everyone kinda wants to meet my mysterious boyfriend…” he trailed off.

Dick smiled brightly and chuckled. “When and where?”

And Jason blinked because he’d been expecting Dick to say no, to say that it was stupid and he had better things to do. It’s what Roy would have done. Roy wouldn’t have wanted Jason to go in the first place. Why would he rather spend his time with the people he saw all day every day than with his boyfriend he only saw in the evenings? “Uh, next Saturday. At one.”

“Do I have to wear a suit?” Dick asked, and Jason rolled his eyes.

“I don’t even wear a suit to work.”

“Sounds great,” Dick yawned and rested his head on Jason’s. “Count me in.”

And Jason smiled and curled further into Dick’s side. He shut his eyes and took several deep, even breaths. “I’m really glad you’re back,” he commented after a long, silent moment.

“God, me too,” Dick replied, and Jason let himself fall back to sleep, lulled in by the sound of Dick’s obnoxious but loveable snoring. And for a moment, just for a moment, he truly believed everything would be okay.


	12. Shadow of the Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catalina Flores is in this chapter.

**“Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple. Sometimes goodbye’s the only way.”**

The party was held at the Gotham Zoo in the pavilion near the elephants. Dick wore a tight-fitting gray t-shirt and had reluctantly agreed to wear a nicer pair of jeans instead of the cargo shorts he had originally picked out. Jason had thrown so many names at him at once that he knew he was never going to remember all of them. Karen and her husband Jim and their three kids.

He grabbed the drink he’d set down on one of the picnic tables. Non-alcoholic, since it was a family event. “I didn’t realize you worked with this many people,” he commented and sat down, Jason beside him.

Allie and her wife Joanna.

“It’s insane,” Jason nodded and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Things were still tense between them. Why wouldn’t they be? But Dick was trying. He really was. Because wasn’t this all his fault? (It was always his fault, after all. Catalina made damn sure he knew that much). “Oh, hey, there’s my boss, Mark.” Dick followed Jason’s gaze across the pavilion, and he froze.

Carmen and her husband Don.

He thought he saw her. But that was ridiculous because she hadn’t gone to Gotham. She’d stayed in Bludhaven. She’d stay far away from him for the rest of his life. But the long black hair and the perpetual smirk on her face was unmistakable. And he tried to come up with a reason to leave when Jason started leading him toward her (why would Jason know any better? Dick had thrown out all of the pictures of her), but he couldn’t make his feet head in the direction he wanted them to.

Mark and his girlfriend Catalina.

And he felt his heart stop.

And he felt his pulse race.

And God he wanted to kill her when she smirked and ran the back of her hand along his cheek and said the words, “Oh, we’ve met.”

And it felt like his cheek was burning where she’d touched it. And he needed to leave. He needed to get out because he was going to be sick and he was going to scream and he couldn’t breathe and he was shaking and it took Jason several long moments to realize what was going on. “Shit,” he heard his boyfriend say, and before Dick knew what was going on he was being led away from the others, toward a quiet area behind the giraffe enclosure. “I didn’t know,” he shook his head and helped Dick into a sitting position on the concrete sidewalk. “I am so, so sorry. I swear I didn’t know. I never would have brought you here if I knew… Shit. Shit shit shit…”

Dick tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t form in his mouth. She was there. She had touched him. _Seriously, Grayson?_ he could still hear the voice of his former shift supervisor back with the Bludhaven PD in his head. _Rape? You’ve got what, a hundred pounds on her?_ He took several shaky breaths and tried to calm down, but he couldn’t because she was less than five hundred feet away and she had touched him and God, she could have put something in his drink again… But Jason wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. He wouldn’t… _And how well did trusting that someone wouldn’t hurt you go for you last time?_ “Are you okay?” Jason asked and Dick just stared at him. “Right, sorry. Stupid question. God, of course you aren’t okay…”

“Come on,” Jason took his hands and squeezed them tightly. “We should get home.” And Dick shook his head because home wasn’t safe, not anymore, not when she knew where they lived, and not when she had touched him and could find him and do it again. But they couldn’t stay either. Not that close to her. Not when he thought every stranger was her. “Okay,” he tried to focus on Jason’s voice but everything was foggy and distant and he couldn’t think straight, not when memories he didn’t want to remember kept popping up in his head. “Maybe I should call Bruce?”

And Dick shook his head again because the last damn thing he needed was for Bruce to come bail him out again. He saw Jason start to come closer to him and shoved him away harder than he meant to because the last thing he wanted was for close contact with anyone, even with him.

“Okay,” Jason sighed and Dick shut his eyes when he saw him pull his phone out anyway. “I’m definitely calling Bruce.”

* * *

“They never should have dismissed the no contact order,” Dick watched as Bruce shook his head and paced back and forth across the spacious living room. He was sat on the couch, a fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Jason had gone back to their apartment to give him and his adoptive father some alone time, and for once Dick wished he would have stayed.

He wrapped the blanket more tightly around him, still not saying anything. Bruce had tried to ask him questions on the way home, but the words kept getting caught in his throat, just like they had after she’d stabbed him… _You aren’t leaving me_. Bruce was still speaking, but Dick’s mind was somewhere else, and he couldn’t piece the words together.

“He never should have put you in that position.”

“He didn’t know,” Dick choked out, and hated how weak and fragile his voice sounded. _What’s the matter, Grayson? Afraid of a little girl?_

“Did she hurt you?”

And Dick started to answer, but Bruce had already pulled him into a tight hug. And he shut his eyes tightly and hated himself because his shoulders kept shaking and sobs kept catching in his throat. She hadn’t hurt him. But she could have. God, she could have…

“Dick?” Bruce asked, and Dick forced himself to make eye-contact. “I really think you need to take some time to focus on yourself. And to focus on yourself without someone else.”

And Dick shut his eyes and nodded because he knew Bruce was right. He loved Jason. At least he thought he did. But Jason had his own problems to deal with, and Dick wasn’t entirely sure he could keep dealing with both of their issues at the same time, not if he wanted to keep his own sanity in check. “But I love him.”

“I know,” Bruce sighed. “And I think he loves you too. He’ll understand.”

* * *

It was another three days before Dick felt comfortable enough to return to the apartment, and even then he was still checking over his shoulder every couple of feet, just in case she was behind him. Jason was sitting on the couch and turned to face Dick when he shut the door behind him. “Hey,” the younger man forced a smile.

“Hey,” Dick sighed and dead-bolted the door behind him. “Can we… Can we talk?”

He watched as Jason’s forced smile turned into a confused frown and sat beside Jason when he nodded. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

“I just…” Dick trailed off, trying to get the words to form. “I think we both got together way too soon,” he stared up at the ceiling, not wanting to meet Jason’s eyes, not wanting to see the hurt or the anger or the mixture of both in them. “And I think we both still have a lot that we need to work through. And I think, at least for me, it’s something I need to work through alone.”

He listened as Jason’s breathing turned into a deep, shaky sigh. But the words that he said weren’t what Dick had expected. “I think you’re right. I’ve, uh, I’ve really not been a nice person to you lately. And what I said during the whole Roy thing… It was really, really shitty.”

“Yeah,” Dick sighed and finally glanced across at him. “Yeah, it really was.” A tense silence fell over them, so unlike the calming silences they had once enjoyed. “I don’t want to see other people.”

“Neither do I,” Jason answered, and Dick let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

“I think I need to stay with Bruce. For awhile,” Dick said after another tense silence. “And work on me. And I think I need to be away from you while I’m doing that.”

“Okay,” Jason sighed and pulled a knee to his chest. “You need to do what’s best for you.”

And Dick nodded and headed to their bedroom to pack his things, trying not to look back as he left.


	13. Kids In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading this fic! It has been extremely emotional to write, and I thank you all for your support and encouragement.
> 
> Part Three of this series will hopefully be out in the near future.

**“Cause we were just kids in love. The summer was full of mistakes we wouldn’t learn from. The first kiss stole the breath from my lips. Why did the last one tear us apart?”**

It was a month before Lian came home. Her lungs still weren’t fully developed. “Have to charge her up at night,” Ollie had joked, and Roy hadn’t even chuckled because it wasn’t funny, not when she could still stop breathing at any minute. Not when any second she could be torn away from him. 

He held his sleeping daughter to his chest, rocking her gently. She hadn’t stopped crying since they’d stepped foot in Ollie’s living room. “It’s okay,” he tried to soothe. But how was he supposed to tell her everything was okay when he was afraid that if he so much as looked at her wrong that everything would go to hell in front of his eyes. “What do I do?” he asked desperately, looking up at the man who had taken him in.

“Hell if I know,” Ollie shook his head. “You were almost a teen when I got you.”

Roy groaned and stared up at the ceiling, biting back a curse that threatened to slip loose before looking down at Lian once more. God, she was so tiny. Were babies supposed to be that damned small? Five pounds, six ounces. She’d barely gained any weight at all in the hospital. Had he ever been that small? Nine pounds, he felt like his father had told him once. God, that seemed a lifetime ago. “I don’t know what’s wrong, baby girl,” he sighed and stood with her.

“Heard driving calms babies down?” Ollie suggested, and Roy shot him a death glare. Driving would be wonderful. It would be soothing and would probably get her right to sleep. “Shit, your license is still suspended…”

“Yeah, I know,” Roy said, holding Lian closer. Was she hungry? He’d tried to feed her an hour ago. And so he kept walking and bouncing and rocking and praying to whatever God was out there that she would calm.

And it was still an hour before she did.

Still, he and Ollie were the only people she had. And Ollie was flakey at the best of times. He needed to keep his cool and maintain his composure. He’d be damned before he let Lian turn out the way he had.

* * *

He took a shaky breath and paused at the church door. Grayson had agreed not to seek a warrant on one condition, and that condition terrified Roy more than almost anything else on the planet. “Not like you’re gonna catch on fire,” a woman with sunken eyes and ribs poking through her shirt said. “And if you have anything on you, leave it at the damned door.”

Roy nodded and lit up one last cigarette. God, he needed to quit. The last thing Lian needed was a dad who could accidentally give her lung cancer. He took a long drag and blew out a smoke ring, watching it rise to the sky. He shouldn’t have been that nervous. He’d seen people twice as fucked up as him in jail. Hell, Waylon had been three times as fucked up once.

He put the half-finished cigarette out and took a shaky breath before heading inside. The gym wasn’t hard to find. And the signs pointing him in that direction gave him no excuse to bail and say he couldn’t find it.

He sat as far away from the podium as he physically could. He watched the different people chatting with one another, like they’d known each other forever. Maybe they had. Maybe they hadn’t. It wasn’t like it mattered. 

Eight o’clock rolled around before he knew it, and everyone around him had taken a seat save for the woman from earlier standing at the podium. “Hi, I’m Angela, and I’m an addict.”

“Hi, Angela,” he heard the group chorus around him. God, it was just like the fucking movies. What was the point anyway? It wasn’t like talking about drugs was going to make him not want them any less. 

“Welcome to Narcotics Anonymous. Can we open this meeting with a moment of silence for the addict who still suffers?” The addict who still suffers? Seriously? Weren’t they all suffering every God-damned minute of every day? Seven months clean, and he still got cravings. Seven months clean and he still itched like hell.

The meeting dragged on. At least he wasn’t half as fucked as the people around him. He had stayed silent the entire damned time, but he was glad no one had pressured him into anything. He frowned when Angela, at least he was pretty sure that was her name, passed a basket to the man closest to the podium. “Our seventh tradition states that every NA group should be fully self-supporting, declining outside contributions. The money collected goes to pay rent and literature and the rest is passed on through the NA service structure to help further carry the message of recovery.”

He didn’t know why he did it. It wasn’t like these meetings were going to help him, like they were going to help anyone. But he still reached into his wallet and threw some change into the basket. It wasn’t much. He didn’t count it. But maybe it would give him good luck in the future.

“Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our traditions, ever reminding us to place principles before personalities. For those who care to, please join us in the addict’s circle for just today…”

“How’d it go?” Ollie asked when Roy ducked into his car. Anonymous. Yeah right. Not in a car that was worth more than the net value of everyone in that group combined.

“I think I just joined a fucking cult.”

* * *

_Hi, my name’s Roy, and I’m an addict._

Four more weeks had passed. Lian was up to eight pounds, and he didn’t have to plug her in anymore. He was back at work, not doing nearly the same thing he had before (Ollie still didn’t trust him back with secure data, why should he?). 

_Hi, Roy._

He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in over a month. God, all Lian did at night was cry… She couldn’t help it, he had to remind himself. She was scared or needed something, and that was the only way she could communicate that.

_Coke. Heroin. You name it, I’ve done it._

She looked like him, he noticed three weeks home. Not in her face. Oh no, that was Jade’s. But in her expressions. Same goofy grin he’d seen on his own baby pictures. He hoped she could keep that for the rest of her life. He hoped he wouldn’t be the one to take that away.

_I don’t like who I am when I’m using._

He thought about Jason a lot. Thought about what he put him through. God, why hadn’t Jason left him sooner? He deserved a hell of a lot better. God, Roy hoped he found a hell of a lot better. No one deserved happiness more than Jason Todd did.

_I beat the shit out of my ex-boyfriend. I cheated on him. I got involved with someone I didn’t care about. We have a kid together._

He was better. He was better and he was going to stay better because Lian deserved better. Hell, Roy deserved better than the person he was. He was going to keep doing better. He had to.

_I’m doing better. For her. For us._

_Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference._

And that time, he knew he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The playlist of songs used in this fic can be found [ here](https://open.spotify.com/user/l792si2vibijisz12zjfuboej/playlist/3eM1tgupySoJweH6VpsOcd).


End file.
